


The New Diary of Ellen

by BurningFox6



Category: The Witch's House
Genre: Alternate Character Interpretation, Consequences, Diary/Journal, Gen, POV First Person, Regret, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-09
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-13 09:01:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28650945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BurningFox6/pseuds/BurningFox6
Summary: A new life requires a new diary. The only place where she can be honest. Where she can shed more light on her dark deeds... and show that stepping into someone's life might not be as easy as you'd think.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	The New Diary of Ellen

**Author's Note:**

> **Spoilers ahead, naturally. Read at your own risk.**
> 
> **I’d always thought what Ellen did to Viola was unnaturally cruel – and not just the obvious body theft. I mean the self-mutilation, the leg and eye maiming, the throat searing, all to make her death as painful as possible. It all felt so unnecessary, like she wanted her to despair before she died. And then, recently, it hit me. It was revealed that a witch needs to despair to truly die. So what if she went out of her way to make her suffer just to make sure she’d be able to truly rest? What if she was offering a bit of mercy with her malice?**
> 
> **Of course, I could be entirely wrong. Maybe she just wanted her dead to get rid of her past entirely. Maybe (and it’s quite likely) Ellen had just become a completely sadistic monster hurting her for her own amusement. But this felt like a fun possibility to explore… and also take a glimpse at the complications of suddenly stepping into someone else’s life.**
> 
> **So let’s take a look at Ellen’s newest writings…**

I did it. As I sit here beside Viola’s father, scribbling his daughter’s fate mere inches from him, I write with fingers that no longer ache, stretch legs that aren’t sore. And the man doesn’t have a single clue. The buffoon.

But of course he has no clue. My scheme was flawless. Not even YOU saw it coming, ‘friend’. And look where you are now. But don’t worry, I’ll take the best care of all your old things…

You were always sickeningly sweet. Naïve and trusting to a fault. You wouldn’t have ended up like you did if you weren’t. And yet… even someone like you would never forgive me for all I did to you.

Good. I know I don’t deserve your foolish forgiveness. I don’t want it. I don’t regret doing what I had to to survive.

…But despite it all… you really were my only ‘friend’. You truly cared. The spell wouldn’t have worked if you didn’t, after all. You really were a light in this dark, cold world… and I had to snuff you out.

That’s why I did it. Severed my legs, gouged out my eyes, burned your throat. So you would despair. 

And when you despaired… you would die.

And when you died… you would be free of the agony.

As you laid dying, you must’ve hated me with every fiber of your being. But that hatred was infinitely better than carrying on with my illness, knowing your lovely life was stolen from you. This hate was temporary… but if I hadn’t given you my mercy, the pain would’ve been forever.

My only regret is you’ll never know my cruelty was a kindness.

-‘Viola’

* * *

She had a dog.

When we arrived back at the cabin, I breathed in the fresh air, finally able to do so again without coughing up blood. It’s… quaint. It’s pitiful compared to my old abode, but I’ll make do with it.

And then, I heard it. A bark. A Golden Retriever raced out from behind the shack, fur whipping with the wind as it came to greet its master. Or what it thought was its master.

My face lit up with a smile when the bundle of fur and spit leapt up to greet me. I don’t know why. I’m really more of a cat person. I only really care about them when they’re in a funny story in my old library.

While I tried to keep it from licking my face off and dirtying my dress, her father looked to me expectantly. I realized he was expecting me to address it by now.

I didn’t know its name.

Thankfully, he filled that gap for me, clicking his tongue and using it himself as he ushered the two of us inside. I now know what to call it for my new life here… but it was concerning, feeling affection for a creature I’d never personally seen before. Where had that come from?

-‘Viola’

* * *

I should’ve known that demon’s final bargain would have a catch. I was just too desperate to live on to realize it, so fixated on completing the spell. For a creature that kept me alive and content for many years, he always loved putting a little fine print in his deals.

I have Viola’s body. I have some faint connection to her memories. I just… don’t have the memories themselves. Her dog clued me in, but only now do I realize the situation I’m in.

I walk by her neighbors and they seem familiar to me, as if I should know them. I don’t. Their faces fill me with recollection, but I can’t remember their names, their lives. They greet me as if I actually am Viola, and I have to play along and pretend I’m someone I’m not. Sometimes it works. Sometimes I can tell they’re confused.

That’s just the people she’s faintly associated with. She had friends, too. Of course she would… how could someone like her not? She even befriended someone like me. I see these other children around, reminding me so much of the ones I lured to my house over the years. Before, I saw them as fuel. Souls to feed the demon. Now… I see them, and I feel joy, warmth, kinship, things I’d long forgotten. 

And yet _I STILL CAN’T REMEMBER ANYTHING ABOUT THEM._

It’s like my heart remembers what my brain can’t access… and it’s all making it so much harder to blend in. These kids approach me, greeting me as if I was her, asking me about things I don’t have the faintest idea about. Other townsfolk, other kids, things Viola liked… things completely alien to me.

They can tell there’s something off about me. Their faces scrunch up in confusion when I laugh it off and try to squeeze a few more details out of them. Some play along, others deem me weird and walk away.

It was a setback, but one I could deal with. At first. Until some of her friends came to her house to call her out to play.

I tried to play it off like I was sick. Ironic, I suppose, given my former life. It made me a good actor, at least. None of them could pry into a life I hadn’t lived if they couldn’t interact with me in the first place. They begrudgingly went off, and for a moment, I was in the clear.

But her father was there. He saw me turn them away and then go back to reading, completely healthy. He went up to me and asked me why I’d lied to them. I simply insisted I wasn’t feeling like dealing with anyone today.

When I told him this, his mouth grew taut with confliction. That wasn’t something Viola would do. Viola cared for her friends. Viola wanted to visit them. It was clear he thought something was wrong. But thankfully, he simply shrugged it off and walked away.

He still doesn’t know I’m not his daughter. If I have any say in it, he never will. But I can’t properly fill her place if I don’t remember her life, her relationships. Soon, he’ll grow suspicious. And what then?

I’ll make this work. With my memories and Viola’s impressions, I’ll carve my own niche from her old life. Somehow.

…Perhaps the only way I know how.

-‘Viola’

* * *

It was the perfect plan.

One little cut, that’s all it would’ve took. Then her father would be gone. Perhaps I could hide the body and claim he vanished? Or even play the sob story, claiming someone disposed of him in the night while we slept? Whichever the case, no one would’ve suspected his dear, sweet daughter of being his killer. No one would blame me for not reaching out to people when I’m ‘racked with grief’.

I’d be losing the love I sought for so long… but it’d only be temporary. I’d still have a place to stay, a fresh body, and a world of opportunities. What was one more corpse to throw in the mountain I’ve created already?

When night fell and we went to bed, I waited until I knew he’d be asleep. Opening the drawer, I drew a fresh blade from it and crept to his room. I stayed up a couple hours, just watching him sleep, knife clutched in my grip so tight it turned my knuckles white, poised to strike at any time. It would’ve been so easy.

But I couldn’t do it.

Viola’s cursed feelings thwarted me again. Where I saw a stranger, her heart saw her beloved father… and now, it’s my heart. My mind urged me to aim for his throat, yet my body refused. Finally, I gave up, returning the knife to the kitchen and settling into bed for a restless sleep.

He had no idea what I’d almost done, greeting me the next morning like nothing had happened. But he could tell I was troubled, and my inability to answer him only made him more concerned. He keeps glancing at me as I sit here writing this… it’s only a matter of time before concern becomes suspicion and he looks at me like the stranger I am. He might even try and find and read this diary… and that’s a disaster I simply can’t let happen.

It’s obvious I’m not going to be able to accomplish anything meaningful surrounded by people I’m forced to care for against my will. I was hoping I could just step in and develop these bonds naturally… but I suppose that was silly of me.

I need some time to think about what to do next.

-‘Viola’

* * *

I did a despicable thing to steal Viola’s life, her friends, her family. And now… I’m throwing it all away.

It’s obvious I can’t stay here any longer. I’m barely fitting in as it is. This love I stole… it’ll fade away as people realize I’m not the girl they loved in the first place. Her friends will leave. Her father will grow distant. And it’ll all be my own fault. I traded her life for nothing.

Which is why I’m leaving. I didn’t take Viola’s life to live alone and uncared for again in a shoddier house. So in the dead of night, I gathered what I’d need. Some food, some clothes, a little bit of coin from her father’s funds. It made me feel guilty. I wouldn’t used to feel guilty for stealing.

I shot one last glance at her father before sneaking out. Viola’s heart urged me to stay, to try and make this situation work. My mind knew I couldn’t. So I quietly opened the door and departed. I didn’t look back.

Her dog tried to intercept me, bounding around the house as soon as it heard someone up and about. I was worried it would bark and alert her father, but thankfully it merely followed behind and sniffed. I’d noticed it wasn’t getting too close to me ever since I first returned to the cabin. It’s like it’s confused why I look like its owner but don’t act like her. I got it to sit and stay, the creature wagging its tail blissfully unaware it was watching its master leave for the last time.

I’m a few towns over now, looking over my options to move somewhere far away. Somewhere there’s no chance anyone from Viola’s life will find me. Somewhere I can start fresh.

I have to live a life with my own mind, and Viola’s empathy. I can’t maim and sacrifice and manipulate others any longer. I must wander alone, without my magic, and find a way to make Viola’s sacrifice have meaning somehow. I don’t want to… but Viola does.

So be it. I’ll go seek my love elsewhere. You’ve gotten your revenge in the end, dear friend.

-Ellen


End file.
